


Sanctuary

by yodasyoyo



Series: 2000 tumblr followers celebration! (Stony fics) [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nicknames, Oblivious Steve, Post-Avengers (2012), basically Steve is so busy enjoying the fact that the avengers are his found family, brief tony stark/ofc - Freeform, just not at the same time, that he fails to notice that he's also found love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 08:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19808293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/pseuds/yodasyoyo
Summary: That said, the real turning point in their relationship came a few weeks after the battle with the Chitauri was over, once Tony moved them all into Avengers Tower— effectively turning it into some weird superhero frat house.“Au contraire, mon capitaine,” Tony replied, the first time Steve referred to it that way in passing conversation.  "This is not a frat house."Three of them were sitting at the table in the dining area, Tony sipping his coffee, while Steve and Bruce ate breakfast. They’d officially been living at Avengers Tower for a whole week now, and it still felt kind of magical to Steve.“No?” Steve said.“You’re sure?” Bruce added, “Because I caught Clint trying to do a keg stand with that barrel of mead Thor brought back from Asgard last week.”





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maiNuoire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maiNuoire/gifts).



> So I recently hit 2000 followers on tumblr and asked for prompts to celebrate, and the lovely poetry-protest-pornography sent me the prompt:
> 
> "I don't know where all this crap about me being a difficult person is coming from, I'm a constant fucking delight" with the ship of your choice? (I can see so many possibilities for this one, I couldn't pick, sorry!)
> 
> Seeing as I know you like Stony too, and I already wrote a load of Sterek (which is the other ship I know for sure we share) I decided to write this! Hope that's ok!!
> 
> P.S. I'm gonna state right off the bat, that my favorite era of mcu avengers fic is basically the post first avengers movie, we all live in the tower together type deal-- and I am willfully ignoring all canon after that point. ENDGAME??? WHAT ENDGAME. HAHAHA *Sobs*

“Good morning, beloved. This is for you.” With a wink, Tony slid a cup of coffee across the table towards Steve. Then he leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile on his face. 

Steve sat down opposite him in one of the generic office chairs that SHIELD kept in all their meeting rooms. When he took the cup he sniffed it, and smiled. “Wow, thanks, Tony. This is great.”

Clint, who had shuffled in behind Steve, eyes still crusted with sleep, slumped noisily into the chair next to him and sighed.

From where he stood at the front of the room, Fury cleared his throat pointedly; Steve didn’t need to look to know he was rolling his one remaining eye. “Gentlemen, now we’re all here if we could get on with the matter at hand.”

The matter at hand concerned the sentient, and slightly phallic-looking- robots that tried to trash Lower Manhattan late last night.

The Avengers had assembled, defeating them easily enough— but 6AM post-battle debriefs were still a necessary evil.

Steve sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. It was from the little coffee shop on the corner of West 29th, and made just the way he liked it, a dash of cream, no sugar.

“Hey,” Clint said, “How come Cap gets coffee? Where’s my—”

“How come you’re here so early?” Steve asked Tony, cutting Clint off mid sentence. Because while Tony wasn’t always late, exactly, he was almost never at these things before Steve.

“I had to get here early,” Tony said reasonably. “I was bringing the coffee.”

“Yeah, for some of us,” groused Clint.

“Gentlemen,” Fury tried. “If we—”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” Tony said to Clint. “I thought you and Nat were headed out to Budapest first thing.”

“Change of plans,” said Clint. “After what happened last night, she went solo. I’ll stick around for the moment just in case those robo-dicks come back; she’ll call me if she needs me.”

“Well how was I supposed to know that you’d decided to stick around just in case we get to see Revenge of the Dildo’s? Here, have a breakfast muffin instead, birdbrain.” Tony lobbed a brown paper bag at Clint’s head, and Clint caught it easily.

“Wait, there are muffins?” Steve said hopefully, supersoldier metabolism was something else, and what with their late finish last night, he’d skipped breakfast, rather than miss out on sleep.

Tony hesitated, then smiled. “For you, light of my life? There are always muffins. Just let me make a call.”

“Tony, no—” Fury and Steve said in unison, but Tony had already dialled and it was too late.

In what felt like no time at all, Espresso Yourself delivered more coffee, enough for everyone in the building, not just those in the meeting room, and an entire muffin basket just for Steve. 

Fury sighed heavily, glaring down at a banana walnut muffin like it personally offended him. “Now can we begin the debriefing?” 

“Yeah,” Tony said, “Unless there’s anything else—?” his gaze slid over to Steve in a silent question.

Steve was already halfway through a muffin, but shook his head. “No, I think we’re good. Are you good, Clint?”

“I don’t think it matters whether _I’m_ ‘good’,” Clint muttered, before taking a sip of his coffee. 

That was a ridiculous sentiment. The Avengers had been a thing since the battle with the Chitauri, had been living together in Avengers Tower for a whole year. They were more than a team now. They were a _family_ , and deep down Steve was sure Clint knew that.

“You want a muffin?” Steve said, pushing the basket toward him. 

Clint’s eyes darted to Steve, then to Tony, and then, for some reason, back to Steve again. He sighed heavily, and eyed the basket of muffins, then reached for a blueberry one. “Yeah, ok.”

**-**

Capsicle. That had been Tony’s first ever nickname for Steve, and at the time it had kind of stung. The fact that he’d been frozen in ice for seventy years only to wake up and discover that most everyone he knew was dead and gone, wasn’t exactly something Steve wanted to joke about.

So Tony had infuriated him at first, rubbed him up the wrong way. Made Steve want to get all up in Tony’s face and just— just— do _something_ to wipe that smug self-satisfied grin off his face.

That edge of frustration and irritation didn’t truly fade until after their initial battle with the Chitauri. Seeing Tony fly a nuke into a wormhole had made Steve’s heart clench in his chest. All in a rush he realized he’d been wrong about Stark.

After the battle was over, and it was clear that Tony had survived and everything was gonna be ok, the Avengers decided to stay together; they helped to rebuild the city, and Steve found that he coped more easily with the more abrasive edges of Tony’s personality in the weeks that followed. The endless snark, the weird jokes that were peppered with obscure cultural references, the flirting, and yes, the random nicknames, all became part of Tony’s undeniable charm.

Sure, they still argued with each other, but a lot of the heat seemed to have gone out of it. With time and shared experience it had mellowed into something easier and almost— fun? Steve found he liked bickering with Tony. Too many people were nervous around him, treating him with reverence one minute, or with kid gloves the next; both were frustrating in different ways. Tony never seemed to have that problem— either he didn’t feel obliged to coddle Steve, or maybe he just lacked the verbal filter to stop himself saying exactly what he thought. Whichever it was, Steve found it refreshing.

That said, the real turning point in their relationship came a few weeks after the battle with the Chitauri was over, once Tony moved them all into Avengers Tower— effectively turning it into some weird superhero frat house. 

“Au contraire, mon capitaine,” Tony replied, the first time Steve referred to it that way in passing conversation. "This is not a frat house."  
  
Three of them were sitting at the table in the dining area, Tony sipping his coffee, while Steve and Bruce ate breakfast. They’d officially been living at Avengers Tower for a whole week now, and it still felt kind of magical to Steve. 

“No?” said Steve.

“You’re sure?” Bruce added, “Because I caught Clint trying to do a keg stand with that barrel of mead Thor brought back from Asgard last week.”

“This is a superhero lair,” Tony grinned at them. “Not a frat house.”

“A lair?”

“Lair sounds kind of evil,” Bruce said absently, as he shovelled a forkful of eggs into his mouth, and swiped at the Starkpad which rested on the table in front of him.

“A den, then,” Tony corrected, seamlessly. “A den of superheroes. That’s the collective noun. I just decided.”

“A den, huh?” Steve raised one eyebrow.

“You don’t like it? What about a haunt? Or a sanctuary. A refuge? Whatever.” He waved a hand. “What I’m saying is— we make our own rules. You wanna do ill-advised keg stands with god-tier alcohol, knock yourself out. You wanna put barbecue sauce on scrambled eggs at _breakfast_ —” Here he cut a look at Bruce. “No one’s gonna judge you. Much.”

“You should try it, Tony,” Bruce said, holding out a forkful for inspection. “It’s delicious.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Tony wrinkled his nose in disgust as he peered at it. “Are those pickles?”

“You said this was a sanctuary. A judgement free sanctuary,” Bruce pointed out, as he crammed more of the offending eggs into his mouth and chewed. “And besides,” he mumbled. “It’s delicious.”

“Pickles are never delicious.”

“I think it’s great,” Steve said abruptly, interrupting them both. “What you’ve done here, I mean.”

“You think eggs, pickles and barbecue sauce for breakfast are great?” Tony sounded horrified.

“No, although it probably tastes better than it sounds,” Steve said, with a smile. “But I was talking about you opening up your home to us. You’re a real generous guy.” 

“Uh,” Tony sat back in his chair. A look of confusion passed over his face for a fleeting second, but he soon straightened his shoulders and shot Steve his trademark smirk. “Yeah, well. That’s me. Generous. Handsome. Intelligent. Charming.” He waggled his eyebrows. 

“Modest,” mumbled Bruce.

“To a fault.” Tony said it glibly, like it was a joke. All at once Steve couldn’t shake the sudden but inexplicable feeling that Tony wasn’t expecting anyone to actually agree with any of what he’d just said, or really believe it. Something in Steve didn’t feel inclined to let that slide. 

“Hey, you’re a good man, and a kind one too, I think.” Steve said meeting Tony’s gaze steadily. 

Tony’s eyes widened and he blinked. Slowly, as Steve watched he flushed a delightful shade of pale pink. “I—” His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. “Uh—” 

It occurred to Steve that for all Tony’s bluster and swagger, he probably didn’t receive much genuine praise, at least not from people he respected. Before the Avengers that pool had probably been limited to Rhodey, Pepper and Happy, and two of those were technically employees. The power balance was all wrong.

“It’s an honor” Steve continued, forging bravely onwards, determined to finish now he’d started. “It’s an honor to be here, on this team with you, and to be invited to live in your home.”

Across from them Bruce glanced up, gaze flitting between them both with interest. Steve didn’t pay him too much mind.

“Right,” Tony said faintly.

“So. Thank-you,” Steve said, refusing to look away. “I appreciate it. We all appreciate it. You’re a real swell guy.”

“Well-uh. Golly, gee whizz, Cap. You’re making me blush over here.” Tony said.

And Steve wouldn't have believed it possible five minutes ago, but he really was; as Steve watched that pale pink flush Tony sported darkened, spreading down his neck, and over the tips of his ears. 

“Just calling it as I see it,” Steve said.

“Yeah. No. Right. You’re a straight talker. I just. Um. Uh— No. Oh no. God that’s—” Tony swallowed, blinking furiously. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath, ducking his head. “This is gonna be so inconvenient.”

“What?” asked Steve.

Immediately Tony’s head snapped up. “What?” 

“What’s inconvenient?” Steve reached out to touch Tony’s arm, but Tony flinched back like he’d been burned.

“Nothing. Ha!” Tony laughed and there was a slight manic edge to it. “I mean work. I have work. Inconvenient work. In my workshop. That I ought to be uh— working on. So.”

With that Tony bolted out of his chair, and backed away from the table, eyes still lingering on Steve as he groped blindly behind himself for the door to the kitchen. 

“Catcha later, Bruce, and uh-- Stud--Stev--Rog--Cap, Ha!” His voice sounded about three octaves higher than Steve was used to hearing. In another second he’d disappeared through the doorway, and then they heard his footsteps echoing speedily away down the hall.

“That was— odd,” said Steve, turning to look at Bruce. “Was that odd?”

Bruce didn’t look up from his Starkpad. “I think you broke him,” he said.

**-**

Tony was not broken though, Steve could report that now with the benefit of hindsight. 

Sure, in the days that followed Tony seemed distant. Well. Not distant. Not precisely that. There was a change though, a tangible change in his behaviour, particularly around Steve.

Right from the start Tony had always been tactile, that was the thing, even when they were bickering. In the few weeks between them defeating the Chitauri, and the Avengers moving into the tower, Steve had gotten used to the way Tony would nudge his knee against Steve’s when they were sitting next to each other, or casually sling an arm over his shoulder when they walked side by side. Then there was the way he’d rest one hand, warm and firm, against Steve’s back as he peered over his shoulder to check out whatever Steve was sketching.

Initially, after what Steve privately called ‘The Breakfast Incident’, Tony backed off; Steve would say he reverted to friendly smiles and polite conversation— but their relationship had never been that insipid before, so that would have been inaccurate. 

Nevertheless, for three whole days, unless they were training or attending a briefing, Steve only saw Tony at the occasional mealtime. Any conversation was necessary for the team, and carefully cordial, none of the usual banter.

“Trouble in paradise?” Nat asked, after Tony exited the room immediately after Steve arrived. Steve just shrugged dolefully, shoulders slumping.

He didn’t get what he’d done wrong, and he couldn’t seem to get close enough to Tony to ask for an explanation.

It wasn’t until the fourth day, when they got the call to assemble, that things were finally resolved. 

A giant mutant lizard creature, that Tony insisted on calling Godzilla, had appeared out of the murky depths of the Hudson and found its way to the Lower East Side. When they finally caught up with it, the team had it cornered by a couple of abandoned office buildings, and were employing a pincer maneuver with Clint, Thor and Hulk coming from one side, and Steve, Tony and Nat on the other. 

Then, in a moment that nobody had predicted, the damn thing opened its mouth and shot a huge fiery energy blast straight at Tony. In a moment of panic, Steve somersaulted off a nearby building, knocking Tony out of the way. Unfortunately that meant he, and the empty office building behind him, bore the brunt of the hit.

There was a searing pain in Steve’s chest as he flew backwards hitting the building behind him. He punched through a wall, and landed on the floor, only for the ceiling above him to collapse in a shower of falling masonry. 

He missed most of the rest of the battle.

Iron Man and Thor found him shortly after, and excavated him. 

As the first glimpse of daylight appeared above him, Steve blinked, looked around hazily, and tried to work out why he was seeing two of everything.

“I wear armor,” Tony said, when they finally uncovered him. He knelt beside Steve and flipped his faceplate up, glaring down at him. “Remember this suit? Does it ring any bells?”

“Hey,” Steve said, smiling up at him loopily. There must have been blood trickling out the corner of his mouth, because he could feel it, could taste it on his tongue. “You’re ok.”

“I was always going to be ok,” Tony pointed out crossly. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“I couldn’t let Godzilla blast you,” Steve said stubbornly. For a smart guy, Tony was so stupid sometimes. “We’re a team. You’re— You—” He lifted an arm and gestured at Tony, who was still glaring at him.

“Awesome armor,” Tony said, pointing at himself. “Shitty shield issue armor.” He pointed at Steve. “Office building.” He gestured at the rubble around them. “Trust me. I could’ve taken the hit. The Creature from the Black Lagoon had nothing on me.”

Steve tried to sit up, his ears were ringing, but the serum was kicking in. Or it would do, any minute. Geez, everything hurt. “Are we good now?” he asked.

“Good?” 

“The two of us. Are we? Can we be? Whatever I said or— or did. I’m sorry, and I miss you. Can we be good?”

“Yeah, geez.” Tony ducked his head and looked guilty. “Yeah. That wasn’t you. That was me. I was dealing with— something. Personal. I--We’re good. Sure we’re good. Of course we’re good.” 

“Okay,” Steve muttered. “Good. I’m—” His vision swam. From the feel of it he’d probably broken a couple of ribs, and maybe his leg. Not to mention the scorching burn that covered most of his chest. “I’m so glad you’re ok, Tony,” he said, and promptly passed out.

**-**

They _were_ good after that. Steve healed up quickly, and Tony reverted to his old self almost immediately, which was to say: tactile, friendly, argumentative, and the proud possessor of a newly minted obsession: Designing Steve new armor.

“I’m just saying,” Tony said, as he and Steve walked into the kitchen at Avengers Tower together a week or so later, once Steve was fully recovered. “I could make you one too. They’re good. Don’t take my word for it. Ask Rhodey!”

“I don’t need to ask Rhodey. I don’t want an Iron Man suit.”

“But if you have a suit and any more buildings fall on you—”

“I like the armor I have, Tony. It’s tough, and lightweight, and it’s got more— flexibility on the battlefield.”

“My armor is flexible!” Tony said, stung. “Super flexible. And, added bonus, don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it can fly. Can’t get more flexible than that.”

“I don’t need to fly. We have you and Thor for that.”

“But—”

“Tony.”

“I—”

“ _Tony_.”

“Ok, fine,” he grumped. “But at least let me redesign the suit you have. It can be the same style if that’s what you want! Just the material they used is so—” He makes a face. “I have a light weight alloy I’ve developed that will still allow you flexibility—” Here he pouted in Steve’s direction. “But will be more durable, resistant to extreme temperatures and—”

“Fine,” Steve said, holding his hands up. “Fine, do that if you want.”

“Thanks.” Tony flashed him a brilliant grin. 

Shaking his head, Steve turned to examine the coffee machine in the kitchen. 

“Seriously,” Tony said, “you won’t regret this, babe.”

“I’m sure I won’t,” Steve said, jabbing a random button on the one piece of infernal machinery he had so far failed to master in the 21st Century. “How do I get this thing to make coffee again?”

Tony didn’t answer for a long moment. When Steve glanced up to look at him, he was standing a few feet away, blinking rapidly, face a little pale. 

“Are you ok?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. I. Of course.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine. Totally fine—uh _babe_.” As he said the words he stared at Steve expectantly. 

“Good. Can you work this thing for me then?” He gestured impatiently to the machine.

“Yeah! Yes. Of course I will.” Tony hurried over to where Steve was waiting, and pressed the buttons in a flurry of activity. They stood side by side, Tony’s shoulder bumping companionably against Steve’s, while the coffee machine did it’s thing. 

**-**

“Come on, Captain Handsome!”

“Darling, turn those baby blues in my direction and let me—”

“Look, shnookums, you need to—”

Steve never once batted an eye at any of Tony’s flirting, or the endearments. Tony had names for everyone. Literally, everyone. He was charming, and funny, and handsome, and sometimes he directed that charm at Steve, but it didn’t mean anything. It was just part of who he was. 

Steve wasn’t about to assume he meant anything by it. 

**-**

“When’s the big day?” Clint asked, after the Avengers finished taking down Mole Man for the second time in a month.

“What big day?” Steve said, as he scrubbed a hand across his face, swiping at the sweat that beaded on his brow. There was a sound like static in his earpiece, and the voices of the other Avengers kept fading in and out.

“You and Stark.”

“Me and Tony?” Steve fiddled with the earpiece, he was wearing, tapping it lightly. It made a low pitched whine.

“Wedding bells?”

“Wait! Someone’s getting married? Who?” He tapped the earpiece again, and it crackled to life, but not before it emitted an ear piercing shriek of feedback that made Steve wince.

“Sweetpea, there you are!” Tony called over the comms. “You want a ride back to the tower?”

“That’d be great, thanks!” 

A second later there was a flash of red and gold, and Tony alighted in front of them.

“So smart of you to design these grips,” Steve said as he put an arm around Tony’s shoulder and took hold. Tony wrapped an arm around his waist and held tight. 

“Uh-huh.” Clint said. “Right, well. I’ll just walk back, then. Shall I?” 

“Oh, I can walk, you—” Steve started to say, but it was too late. Tony was already airborne.

“What’s up with Legolas?” Tony asked, as they zipped through the clear blue skies of New York towards Avengers Tower.

“I don’t know. Something about a wedding we have to go to? Do we know anyone that’s getting married?”

Tony couldn’t shrug very well in the armor, at least not when flying, and certainly not while flying _and_ carrying Steve, but Steve understood the gesture well enough. “Did Thor propose to Jane or something?”

“I don’t think so,” Steve said. “I feel like I would remember that.”

“Right? Me too.”

Steve frowned. “Did he seem a little— crabby today?”

“Who, Barton?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s just Barton being Barton. You know how he is sometimes. Moody. Difficult.”

“And you’re not I suppose?” Steve grinned.

“Hey! I don't know where all this crap about me being a difficult person is coming from. I am a constant fucking delight, you know that.”

They alighted on the landing pad at Avengers Tower a moment later, and Steve released his grip on the armor.

“Thanks, Tony,” he said, as he stepped away. “I appreciated that.”

“No problem,” Tony flipped up the faceplate, and walked forward. Immediately the floor started to shift either side of him as robotic arms rose up through it and started to strip him out of the suit. As Steve walked past him he whistled long and low. “Gotta say, your ass looks great in that new suit, snugglebug. Whoever designed your old SHIELD one really didn’t know how to appreciate your ass-ets.”

Steve shot him a dry look, one eyebrow raised. “No one asked you to look, Tony.”

“I know! It’s a service I provide for free.” Tony winked.

“Well in that case,” Steve deadpanned, and cocked a hip, and then did his best supermodel strut off the landing pad.

Tony gave a startled bark of laughter. A moment later, Steve heard his hurried footsteps following after. “Say, um—”

“What?” 

“I wondered if you wanna go grab a bite at that new deli on 8th.” Tony twisted his hands in front of him, his expression taking on that weirdly expectant quality again.

And sure, Steve felt tired post-battle, but he couldn’t bring himself to let Tony down. “That’s a great idea.”

“It is? I mean. It is. Of course it is.” 

“Sure,” Steve smiled. “I’d love that.”

“You would?” Tony beamed at him.

“Totally. It’s important to have downtime as a team. I’ll let the others know and see if they can meet us there in, say, a half hour?”

“Uh—” Tony’s smile dimmed a couple of watts. 

“An hour?” Steve tried.

“Sure. That sounds— that sounds great.”

“You’re a real team player, Tony!” Steve says, clapping him on the back.

“Apparently,” Tony said, laughing, although it sounded a little hysterical to Steve’s ears. “Who knew?”

**-**

“I got tickets to the World Series, honey!”

“Wow! I’ll let the team know!”

**-**

“Ok, Sugarplum. I got _two_ tickets to an exhibit at MOMA that I thought you might like.”

“Wow, thanks! Nat likes modern art, I’ll see if she wants to check it out!”

**-**

“What if you and I take a little weekend break to my villa in Hawaii, gorgeous?”

“Maybe we should bring Bruce, too? He looks tired lately.”

In the end, they brought the whole team.

**-**

The endearments were so commonplace, that Steve stopped noticing them at all, right up until they weren’t there anymore.

The first morning it happened, the Avengers were all sitting around the table for family brunch. It had become a Sunday morning tradition in the last year or so— assuming there wasn’t some kind of imminent crisis brewing. 

Steve had been away for the past few days and, as he took his seat, he reflected that it felt good to be home. Because that’s what this was now, without question.

It was Nat and Thor’s turn to cook this morning, and they were both surprisingly good at it. Although Thor tended to assume he needed to make enough food for all Asgard. The table was piled high with bacon and eggs, pancakes, fruit and waffles, fresh coffee and fruit juice. The whole team was together, and Steve felt something a lot like pride rise in his chest.

He had just started to fill his plate when Tony said, “Pass the syrup please, Steve.” Immediately Steve’s stomach dropped like he was on a roller coaster, although for a moment he couldn’t work out why.

“I-uh—” He hesitated. The piece of bacon he’d picked up dangling between his thumb and forefinger.

“The syrup?” Tony waved a hand at him with a quick smile. He turned to Thor. “Hey Phil Connors, did you see that news report yesterday about the freak storm in Phoenix near Jane? I wondered if that was your work?”

“Nay, twas not me, my friend.”

“Hailstones the size of footballs? Are you sure?”

“Puny hail storms are not my speciality. Lightning—” Thor grinned. “That is where true power lies.”

“Uhhh— these hailstones punched holes in an SUV. Steve, the _syrup—_ ”

“Here,” Bruce said. Leaning over he picked up the syrup and passed it across the table without looking up from his tablet.

“Thanks, Jolly Green.”

“I—” Steve knew his mouth was hanging open, but he didn’t seem to be able to close it. Something was horribly, desperately wrong.

He barely ate anything after that, just pushed his food around his plate and watched Tony with worried eyes.

**-**

“I think something’s wrong with Tony” he said to Nat, dragging her off to one side after brunch was over.

She raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

“I’m serious,” Steve said. “Didn’t you notice how weird he was today?”

“No weirder than usual.”

“But—” Steve lifted his hands in frustration.

“Ok.” She crossed her arms. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“He—” Steve trailed off. It occurred to him suddenly that saying, ‘my team mate called me by my name,’ probably wouldn’t sound nearly as ominous outside the confines of his own mind. My team mate stopped calling me ‘darling’, sounded even less problematic, unless you knew Tony. “I— I can’t explain it,” he said at last. “I just know. Can you think of anything unusual that happened last week while I was gone?”

She shrugged. “To Tony? Not really. Things have been quiet all round while you were gone. I mean, he had that gala for the children’s hospital earlier this week, and I guess there’s Allison. But other than that—”

“Wait. Allison?”

“Yes, Allison. She’s a pediatrician. He met her at the gala? Brought her back to the tower a couple days ago and introduced her to all of us?”

“She’s— Tony’s dating?”

“You didn’t know?”

Steve shook his head. That stomach-swooping-on-a-roller-coaster sensation was back, except this time it didn’t stop. It just kept on going and going and— Tony was dating. Tony had stopped calling Steve ‘dear,’ and ‘darling,’ and ‘honeypie,’ because he was _dating._

Which meant. 

Oh god.

He stumbled back a step.

“You know—” he said abruptly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Cap, you know Tony better than any of us. If you think there’s something—”

“I made a mistake.”

“But—”

“I have to go and uh—” He jerked a thumb in the vague direction of his quarters.

“Right.” 

He could feel her eyes on his back as he walked away.

**-**

For the rest of that afternoon Steve lay on his bed in his quarters and wondered how he could have been so blind.

In his mind he replayed every single interaction between himself and Tony over the last year. The invitation to the deli. The muffins at shield headquarters. The art exhibit. Oh god— _he squirms thinking about it, mortified_ — the goddamn trip to Hawaii, which Steve had somehow turned into a team bonding exercise.

Now, in the quiet of his room, it seemed obvious: Tony had been declaring his intentions— had been trying, to— to _woo_ Steve, and Steve had been totally, unforgivably oblivious to the whole thing.

Steve rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow.

Truthfully, up until that moment he hadn’t even considered the possibility of dating Tony. Not that he was opposed to dating a man, he knew himself that well at least. It was just that Steve had filed Tony away in a box marked ‘friend’ and ‘teammate,’ and left him there. He’d taken all the cute names and flirting and assumed it was just Tony being, well— _Tony._

The thing was, now that his mind had been opened to the possibility, all he could think about was how good it would be. 

They understood each other so well, made each other laugh, had each other’s backs every step of the way. They encouraged each other to be better, something more than the sum of their parts, and craved each others approval. For longer than he cared to admit, all Steve had needed to brighten his day, was to see Tony smiling at him. 

Tony was brilliant. Tony was a genius. A generous, brave, funny, kind-hearted billionaire, and a real good-looking fella to boot.

And now it was too late. Now Tony had Allison, and Steve wasn’t Captain Handsome, or honeypie, or sugarplum anymore. 

He was Steve. 

Just Steve. 

For the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel like enough. 

**-**

Tony and Allison dated for six weeks. Six long weeks where Steve spent one helluva lot of time working his way through punching bags in the gym, and, for the most part managed to avoid the happy couple completely.

It wasn’t that difficult to do.

Steve had always been an early riser, up well before Tony on any given day, (assuming Tony went to bed at all, and didn’t just hole up in his workshop). Plus there was the fact that Allison worked long shifts at the NYP Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital, so she wasn’t around all the time anyway. All of that meant that Steve just had to find a way to make himself scarce on the occasional evening where Tony did bring her back to the tower.

In the end it was five weeks in before Steve crossed paths with them at all. On the morning in question he’d just come back from a run, and found them sitting in the kitchen area together. Tony was making smoothies, and Allison was perched on a stool, watching him.

“Cap,” Tony called. “Come say hi!”

Steve plastered what he hoped was a natural smile on his face and joined them.

It was awful. Awful how wonderful Allison was. She was funny and kind and more than held her own against Tony. All Steve could do was keep smiling and hope that none of them noticed he was dying on the inside.

For the most part he got away with it. Or he thought he did right up until Allison said, “I’m so glad to finally meet you. Tony talks about you all the time and,” she leaned closer, eyes sparkling, and said in a stage whisper. “You were always my favorite Avenger.” 

“Oh, he’s mine too, babe,” Tony said, immediately. “Look at him. What’s not to love?”

The ease with which Tony said it made Steve flinch back imperceptibly. And although he didn’t think Allison noticed, Tony definitely did. He sent Steve a slight, questioning look.

“T-Tony,” Steve said, swallowing. “Tony’s the best Avenger. Iron Man. Tony designed that suit himself. He flew a nuke into a wormhole to save New York, never knowing if he would survive. He invited all of us into his home and that one act allowed us to become a true team. A family. Everything he’s achieved has been through his own ingenuity, intelligence and hard work. He’s generous to a fault, too. I uh— ” Steve trailed off.

Tony stared at him, lips slightly parted.

“Wow!” Allison grinned at Steve. “Total mutual appreciation society. Looks like I’ve got competition, Tony.” Grinning at Tony, she took his hand and squeezed it tight.

“You don’t need to worry. I’m— uh. I’m fairly sure I’m not Cap’s type,” Tony said.

Steve winced. “I should uh—” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the door, and before either of them could say anything else he was gone.

She was perfect for Tony, that was the truth. Intelligent, and funny, and genuinely wonderful.  
  
Everything was awful.

**-**

It was Clint who found him going to town on yet another punching bag later that same evening. For a while he stood in the doorway, watching Steve lay into it. 

“What do you want, Barton?” Steve said eventually, pausing to swipe the sweat out of his eyes.

Clint tapped his fingers against the door jamb. “You gonna be ok?”

Steve threw another punch at the bag and the room shook. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You know why.”

There was no point in lying, then. Clint had guessed. If he had managed to do that, then everyone else probably knew too.

“I— She’s really nice.” Steve said.

“Yup.”

“He seems happy.”

“He does.”

Steve sighed. “Did I miss my chance?”

Clint shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know. Tony was pretty much into you for a year.”

“You knew, that whole time?”

“He kept calling you babycakes, and making heart-eyes at you. Everyone knew.”

“And none of you told me?”

“We thought you knew, too. Trust me.”

“Well. I didn’t know.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “That is apparent now, yes.”

“What am I gonna do?”

“I don’t see that there’s much you can do. Let things play out?” He spread his hands, palms up. “If they do break up eventually, and you get another shot, don’t waste it.”

“Right,” Steve nodded. “That’s— really good advice, actually. Thanks.”

“You don’t need to sound so surprised about it,” Clint said mildly. “I have depths.”

“Hidden ones?”

“They’re buried real deep. Say, you wanna see if Asgardian Mead can get a supersoldier drunk?”

“Now there’s the Clint Barton I know and love.”

Clint waggled his eyebrows, and grinned. 

“Go on then,” Steve said. “Might as well.”

**-**

Two days later Steve was slumped in front of the TV watching the Notebook with only a tub of Ben & Jerry’s for company. The door opened, and Tony entered the room wearing a tux. His hair was lightly tousled, his bow-tie undone, jacket hanging open; Steve swallowed heavily and looked away. 

“Honey, I’m home."

At that Steve’s head whipped up; wide-eyed he stared at Tony, hope blooming in his chest. “T-Tony?”

“What are you watching?”

Steve held his breath as Tony crossed the room and slumped next to him on the couch, their knees knocking together. This close, Steve could see how tired he looked, there were dark circles under his eyes.

“Nothing. Movie. It doesn’t matter.” Steve dived for the remote and switched the TV off. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” Tony’s shoulder’s slump a little. “No. I just ended things with Allison is all.”

“Ohhh.” Steve wasn’t sure what his face is doing, but it didn’t seem to be under his conscious control anymore, and he was pretty sure the expression it currently wore was not appropriate for: My best buddy just broke up with his girl. “That’s. I’m sorry, Tony. Is that— do you want to talk about it?”

Tony shrugged. “Nah.”

They were both quiet for a long moment.

Reluctantly Steve reached out a hand for the remote, and as he did, Tony said, “It just— I guess it felt like I wasn’t all in, y’know? And it seemed like she was, or she could be eventually and—” He trailed off.

“And?”

“So yeah,” Tony grimaced. “Back to square one, I guess.”

“Square one?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You can talk to me if you want to, Tony. I mean. I care about you. A— A lot, actually. So if you wanted to talk then—”

“Uh— ha!” Tony shifted in his seat, and wouldn’t quite meet Steve’s eyes. “I guess— Oh wow. Ok. I guess I have this habit of um— liking people who don’t always— uh— return my affections? Except Pepper of course, but we both know how that turned out but yeah. I seem to spend half my time overinvested in people who don’t really like me back. At least not the way I want them to? And then I meet someone like Allison who really does like me and—” He shrugged. “Gotta do the right thing though. I started dating her thinking I was ready to move on and— I guess. I wasn’t.” He lifted his hands and then dropped them again. “So. Hence. Square one.”

“Oh,” Steve nodded. “Right. Right. I see.” 

His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, heart was beating overtime in his chest.

Then, slowly, carefully, in a way that allowed Tony to move back if he wanted to, he lifted one hand and carefully put it over Tony’s, letting it rest there.

At that, Tony went completely and utterly still, his eyes darting down to look at where Steve’s hand covered his. “Uh— S-Steve?” he said, and his voice broke slightly over the word.

Steve swallowed. “Yes, sweetheart?”

Tony inhaled, and the breath seemed to catch, his eyes grew wider. 

“I uh—” Steve squeezed his hand. “I wondered if— if I could take you out to dinner tomorrow. There’s this little Italian place and, I thought— Just the two of us..”

“Just the two of us? Like— Like?”

“A date.”

Tony smiled. “I would love to.” 

**-**

**Author's Note:**

> Well that's all folks! I'm not gonna lie, even though it was loosely set in the MCU, my characterization probably owed a little to Avengers Assemble- hope no one's too upset. Thanks for reading, if you felt like leaving comments or kudos on this fic then I'm eternally grateful to you! You guys, as always, are the true MVP's :-)
> 
> Also you can find me on [tumblr,](http://yodas-yo-yo.tumblr.com/) :D


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